


eclipses, gold leaf, comets

by celestialskiff



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Baseball, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:31:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialskiff/pseuds/celestialskiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kira would remember the names of Keiko's herbs and see the flowers change with the seasons and let Miles teach her how to go rafting. She would do it all. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	eclipses, gold leaf, comets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silly_cleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_cleo/gifts).



Look up to catch eclipses, gold leaf, comets,  
angels, chandeliers out of the corner of your eye,  
join them if you like, learn astrophysics

—Jo Shapcott, from _Of Mutability_

_Deep Space Nine_

Nerys knew Miles and Keiko were leaving long before Julian did. She looked at him sometimes, during meetings with the senior staff, and wished she, too, didn't know. 

She kept trying not to tell Keiko that she wished they weren't going. She wanted to be supportive. But she thought it every time she saw her. _Don't leave. Please._

She almost said it, she almost said everything, one evening when Keiko invited her over for coffee, though that evening they barely talked at all. When Nerys arrived Yoshi was crying and wouldn't settle, and his cries woke Molly. Molly was cranky too, demanding glasses of milk and stories and wouldn't go back to sleep. 

“You don't have to help,” Keiko said, and “I'm sorry,” but Nerys replied, “Don't talk nonsense,” and rocked Yoshi when Keiko's arms gave out. 

Molly went to sleep eventually, spread-eagled on the sofa, and Yoshi dozed between them on Keiko's bed, his head resting heavily on Nerys's stomach. She wouldn't have moved him for anything. She looked over at Keiko. 

Keiko's eyes were half-open. Her hair was tangled, her face pale. She smiled sleepily at Nerys, over Yoshi's head. “Thank you,” she mouthed. Nerys didn't say anything. She could feel Yoshi breathing, his little chest expanding against her side. She whispered to the computer to dim the light. Keiko sighed sleepily and curled closer to Yoshi. 

_Don't leave,_ Nerys thought. _You're my family_. She still didn't say it. She kept not saying it until they were gone, and then she said it once, quietly, outside their empty quarters, and rubbed her closed fist against her mouth. 

_San Francisco_

The first alien planet Nerys visited purely for pleasure was Earth. The first place she went was the O'Briens' house just outside San Francisco. It was an old building—which surprised Nerys, she always thought of Earth as modern—with green vines creeping over the walls and along the windowsills, and herbs growing in tubs on the porch. 

Nerys was tired, dizzy with it. The four day trip here on the freighter had been pleasant—Ezri had even accompanied her some of the way en route to a conference, and they'd drunk too much voodai and reminisced—but still she'd slept badly. There was a fear inside her, tight and hot, and it kept waking her, over and over, until she gave up trying to rest and went, instead, to stare at the stars. She didn't know this part of the galaxy very well: she couldn't name the constellations. They belonged to someone else. She imagined children on other worlds looking up at these stars when they couldn't sleep, sailors naming and navigating by them. 

Now that she was here with Miles, she felt, finally, that she could sleep. But she didn't want to: she didn't want to miss a second. She'd been to Earth before, of course, but it wasn't like this. She hadn't been visiting family. 

The cool air caressed her face, and her lips and hands felt dry and brittle. 

“Yoshi's so excited to see you,” Miles said, steering her up the steps. “And Molly made a welcome banner.” 

He'd insisted on carrying her bag for her, even though she knew it wouldn't do his shoulder any good. She could hear birds trilling in the vines growing on the house, birds she couldn't name, and the herbs smelt sweet and sharp and new. 

Keiko opened the door first. Much as she longed to see Yoshi and Molly, she was glad it was Keiko who held out her arms to her first. Nerys relaxed in the hug, smelling Keiko's perfume, Keiko's warm hands on her back. “I've missed you,” Nerys said. 

Keiko drew back, “You look tired,” she began, and then Yoshi was running towards, so big, so big, how did he get so big... but Nerys found she could still lift him into her arms. 

“Look at you,” she said, holding him, the child who'd lived under skin. “Look at you.” Her limbs ached with tiredness, but she didn't want to let him go. He stood next to her, chubby hand on her thigh, when she bent to hug Molly. 

*

Yoshi insisted she get into bed next to him and read him his story. His room was the smallest, bed pushed up against the window. The scent of flowers rose from the garden, and Nerys could smell something else too, salt perhaps. She lay down next to him on the narrow bed, and he curled up against her, wonderfully open and happy to see her. She'd talked to him over the comms, but she hadn't believed he'd really recognise her, really want to see her. 

“Kirayoshi,” she said softly, brushing his hair back from his face, and picked up the book he gave her. She wasn't sure which of them fell asleep first, but she knew she never finished the story. 

*

“Stay forever,” Molly said, when she took her to the aquarium. Nerys had wanted to do something special, just with Molly, and Molly had asked for the aquarium. Nerys wasn't sure she liked it. She'd never been in one before, and the walls of fish gliding by were unsettling. She knew they were safe behind their glass, but what if someone bombed San Francisco? What if she and Molly drowned next to a serenely smiling shark? 

Molly made her feel better, though. Molly pressed her face right up to the glass next to the most poisonous jellyfish and smiled wonderingly at their tentacles. “Stay forever,” she said. 

Nerys put her hand on Molly's shoulder. The shoulder still surprised her by being so small and so sturdy at the same time. “I can't,” she said. “I'd love to, Molly, but I can't. I have my work at Deep Space Nine.” 

Every time she said _Deep Space Nine_ she felt a little frisson of fear. Could they really get on without her? She hadn't heard any reports of it blowing itself up, but maybe the O'Briens were just protecting her until her vacation was over. 

Molly didn't look at her. Her eyes were following the slow progression of a hammerhead shark. “Daddy stopped going there,” she said. 

*

“You're very popular,” Keiko said, that evening, when they were sipping Earth alcohol in the back garden. A bicycle was overturned at their feet, and Molly's wooden dolls were scattered over the grass. The trees sighed in a cool breeze. It wasn't Bajor, but it was peaceful, and beautiful in its own way. Keiko had taught her the name of the herbs, of the trailing vines, and explained the success of the big beds of wild-flower trimmings illicitly taken from the Gamma Quadrant. 

“Molly told me to stay forever,” Nerys said. 

“We all want you to stay forever.” 

Nerys sipped the Earth alcohol. It was tangy and cool, but she couldn't remember the name. She thought about the station, about Bajor, and about Molly's hand in her own as they looked up at the sharks. She thought about Kirayoshi falling asleep beside her, and the sound of Keiko and Miles laughing in the garden. “I wish I could,” she said. “I wish I could. Kirayoshi is so big now, and Molly too. I've missed so much. And I've missed you.” 

“I know,” Keiko said. “Visit more often. You're entitled to more leave than you take, aren't you?”

Kira nodded. She was entitled to vacation time. And the station wouldn't fall apart without her. She should take it, she should leave everything behind and come here, at least twice a year, and see them grow up. And remember the names of Keiko's herbs and see the flowers change with the seasons and let Miles teach her how to go rafting. She would do it all. 

_Three Years Later_

Molly got onto the bed next to Nerys and tugged at her pillow. Nerys groaned. “Mom said she'll make pancakes,” Molly said. “If you want them. She says she's got Raktajino too and that it's eleven forty-five and maybe you should get up but only if you feel well enough.” 

“Eleven forty-five?” Nerys repeated. Her eyes felt like they were glued together. When she managed to get them open, the only thing in her field of view was Molly's profile. She was lying down now, her head on the corner of Nerys's pillow. Molly had flour in one eyebrow, but Nerys was struck again but how much older Molly looked than the last time she'd seen her. 

All her limbs felt heavy, but she dragged herself upright. “I didn't mean to sleep so late.” 

“Your hair looks really weird,” Molly said. She was still lying on the bed, fully dressed, including slightly muddy shoes. 

“I bet it does.” 

“You were supposed to play with Yoshi after dinner last night but you went to sleep instead.”

“I know. Was he upset?”

Molly shrugged. “He's at baseball practise now. Dad's special team.” 

“Shouldn't you be there too?” Nerys rubbed her face. Her brain wasn't even starting to feel functional. 

“Baseball is for babies,” Molly said, sitting up. Her hair was cut into a chin-length bob now, and it swung around her face. 

“I play baseball,” Nerys said. Played. She hadn't had time to hang out with Jake or Kasidy in far too long. She stretched her shoulders. Everything felt stiff. 

“So does Dad,” Molly said. She sounded unconvinced. “Are you coming for breakfast?” 

“I'm going to take a quick shower first.”

Real hot water—a luxury on a space station—helped. She dressed in informal, loose Bajoran clothes. It felt like a long time since she'd worn anything other than her uniform. 

“I hope Molly didn't terrorize you too much,” Keiko said when Nerys went into the kitchen. 

“I don't terrorize anyone!” Molly snapped from the living room, where she was constructing something complicated with wood and glue. 

Nerys smiled. “It was a pleasant way to wake up.”

She sat down at the sunny table, and let Keiko feed her. She felt shaky still—her limbs hurt, and her head—even though she must have slept for nearly twelve hours. 

“I think you should make an appointment with my doctor,” Keiko said, once she'd put a fourth pancake on Nerys's plate. “You're supposed to go for regular check-ups, aren't you?” 

So they were going to talk about it, then. Nerys cut into the pancake and then put her fork down. “I don't think I need to see anyone. Bashir is just being alarmist.”

“And the specialist on Bajor? They're being over-cautious, too?”

“It's just fatigue, Keiko.” 

Keiko sighed. “I want to kidnap you and keep you here. If you go back to Deep Space Nine, it'll probably be another three years before we see you. Or six. Or maybe you won't come back at all. Or maybe you'll just die from overwork.”

Nerys leant her head on her hand. The point of leaving Deep Space Nine was to forget about all of that. 

No. It was also to come here. Here, to this kitchen, to listen to Keiko, and see... See if it would change anything. “I'll go to your doctor,” she said. 

Keiko took her hand. “Good.”

*

It was harder, somehow, now that the kids were bigger. They didn't need constant supervision. Miles wouldn't hand her Yoshi and sink, exhausted, into a chair. Molly didn't need anyone to help her write or draw or to stop her from ruining Keiko's plants. And that meant Nerys had time to think. 

Thinking had become almost unbearable. 

“How was the appointment?” Keiko asked over dinner, a stew of vegetables Nerys couldn't name.

“Your doctor had never seen a Bajoran before,” Nerys said. “She had to look me up on the database.”

Keiko laughed. “I suppose any Bajorans who live here go to Starfleet doctors.” 

“Did she help?” Miles asked, dipping bread into his stew. 

Nerys sighed. She looked over at Molly and Yoshi, hoping they'd start to squabble and distract their parents, but Molly was looking out of the window and Yoshi was filling his mouth with as much bread and stew as it could hold. 

“She read the letter from Dr Nimo and said I should come by every week. She gave me a vitamin hypospray and the names of six counsellors.” 

“You should show the list to Miles,” Keiko said. “He might be able to help you narrow it down.” 

“I don't even know if I want to go,” Nerys said. 

Miles looked up from his stew, and put his hand on her arm. “Therapy is terrible. I hate it. But you should go.” 

Nerys snorted. “That's certainly encouraging.”

“You have to talk about yourself and your past and your feelings,” Miles said, looking grim. “But it's better than not going.” 

Nerys shrugged and brushed him away. But his comments made her contemplate going more than all of Ezri's cheerful optimism had done. She turned her attention to Molly, who was clearly taking in the whole conversation, and asked her about her craft project.

*

Nothing had happened. Nothing important. 

Julian had called her in for a physical over and over, until at last she'd gone. He'd hummed and sighed and sent her to a specialist on Bajor. 

It had taken her weeks to get around to seeing the specialist. Eventually, she'd found it hard to stay standing up for more than five minutes at a stretch, and she squeezed in an appointment after a meeting with a Vedek. The specialist had sat her down and said she'd seen this a lot in former revolutionaries and she needed rest and creams for her sore joints and supplements until she started eating probably again and how bad were the nightmares?

Nerys hadn't told her she'd been having nightmares. She hadn't told her anything. She'd worked every day until the days turned into months and the months added up to years and the station seemed like the only solid thing in the world and, at the same time, like it might fly apart at any moment. She did not know how to breathe when there wasn't a crisis. Sometimes, only sometimes, she would sit in front of her mirror at night and look at her dry skin, her new wrinkles, feel the stiffness in her limbs, and think she shouldn't be so worn down at thirty-six. And then she'd think that so many women like her hadn't even lived that long, that she was old, that she was lucky. 

And she stayed awake until she passed out, and woke, covered in cold sweat from her latest nightmare, and looked for another crisis. 

“A vacation,” the specialist said. “A good long rest period. Your blood work is terrible.” 

“On Earth,” Ezri said. “With people who love you. You can't get called back to Deep Space Nine from there.” 

The whole thing was completely ridiculous. 

But it didn't feel quite so ridiculous when she knelt next to Molly on the living room floor and helped her paint the walls of a scale model of the chambers of the Klingon High Council she'd been making. 

*

Kira didn't have a nightmare until the fourth night on Earth. She'd though perhaps they were peculiar to space. But she woke up gaping, sweat-stained, hot and cold at the same time. The O'Brien's guest room suddenly felt exactly as alien as it was. Even the Bajoran prayer wheel on the wall didn't remind her of home. 

But on an alien world, it was easier to remind herself that she was safe. That the dream could be locked away, and that she didn't have to throw herself into intense political negotiation with the new Cardassian government to feel like she could stay alive. 

She washed in cold water, splashed it on her chest and arms and face, and dried herself on a soft blue towel that smelt like toothpaste and aftershave. It was cold in the garden, but she didn't want to be in the house. She wrapped her arms around herself, relishing the shiver. Her body was alive, whole, aware of heat and cold. 

The night was foggy, she couldn't see any stars, but she could smell the flowers that grew around the doorway. Jasmine, Keiko called the vine. And she could smell the herbs, the herbs with their brittle, Human names—coriander, thyme, oregano, tarragon. 

She could smell the ocean, too, the smell coming in with the fog. Miles kept saying they'd go out in a boat. She wasn't sure she'd ever been on a real boat, on an ocean that wasn't holographic. 

“You'll freeze out here.”

Nerys twitched, nervous, even though she knew it was Keiko. Even though she knew she was safe here. 

“I'm fine. Did I wake you?”

“I sleep light,” Keiko said, draping an old jacket around Nerys's shoulders. It must belong to Miles—it was too broad for her, and smelt faintly of aftershave and, even more faintly, of whisky. “Having two children makes you a light sleeper.” 

The jacket was a comforting weight around her. She felt cold, suddenly, now that she was wearing it. Her feet were cold, and her hands. 

“Do you want a hot drink?” Keiko asked. 

“I just want to be outside,” Nerys said, looking up at the starless sky. 

“Should I leave you alone?” 

She found she didn't mind Keiko being here, not at all. “I'm happy to have company, but you don't have to stay.” 

Keiko went inside and put on a coat of her own and an extra pair of socks, and then she and Nerys sat side by side on the little wrought-iron bench under one of the fruit trees. Nerys kept forgetting the name of the fruit. Pears? Plums? Peaches? 

“The kids get me up sometimes, with a bad dream,” Keiko said. “Molly especially. She remembers what the war was like. She remembers wondering if her Dad was going to come back alive.” 

Nerys sighed. She thought, suddenly, of Jake, and his little sister, wondering if their Dad would return. She hadn't been spending enough time with them. She'd been doing all the wrong things. “Does Yoshi have bad dreams too?”

“Not really. He doesn't remember the war. He's always been a more easygoing child than Molly.”

“He doesn't get that from me,” Nerys joked. She suddenly wished she'd asked for a hot drink, so she'd have something to do with her hands. She spread her fingers instead, feeling the cold iron beneath her biting into her skin. “He's shy with me.” 

“You haven't seen him for three years. That's a big part of his life.” 

“I know,” Nerys said. She couldn't remember the last time she'd wanted to cry. She did now, with a sudden, bright ache. “I've done all the wrong things.” 

Keiko took her hand, lacing their fingers together over the cold seat. “No. I didn't say that. Besides, you're here now, aren't you?”

Nerys could almost taste the herbs in her mouth. And the tears too—her tears tasted like Hasperat, sharp and hot. Keiko put her hand on Nerys's cheek. “It's all right,” she said. 

“It isn't.” Nerys swallowed hard. “It's—it's—”

Only a few tears fell, though she almost wished she'd cried properly. It was the sort of thing Ezri would tell her was an important stage in the healing process. But healing from what? 

She held Keiko's hand to her face, her warm hand, and Keiko sat and talked with her until they were both stiff with cold, and the sky was starting to turn navy. And it helped. 

Later, back in bed, Nerys named the herbs to herself like a prayer—thyme and tarragon, coriander, oregano. 

*

Miles did take her out in a boat. Molly got seasick and decided to stay home with Keiko, but Yoshi came. He sat by his Dad on the narrow bench, while Nerys had a seat to herself. It was a small boat, and the sea seemed like it would wash inside and sweep them away. But Miles steered very competently, and Nerys found she liked the wind on her face, the boat bouncing over the waves. 

The waves had seemed very small from shore, but they were higher now she was among them, more treacherous. When Miles slowed the boat they saw large, brownish creatures with whiskery faces looking up at them from the water. “Sea-lions,” Yoshi said, but Nerys wondered if she'd misheard him, because she was sure she'd seen pictures of lions, and they were golden-coloured and fluffy. 

She watched them bob past the boat. Long faces stared up, curious, then darted away when Miles started the engine again. 

What are they doing on Deep Space Nine now? Kira thought suddenly. What shift is it? What day is it? 

Then Yoshi pointed out a large, white bird diving into the water in a burst of spray, and, impossibly fast, swooping back out again, and she wad distracted, and grateful. 

On the pier again, she helped Yoshi take his life-jacket off. He looked up at her under his hair—it was too long, but Keiko said he hated having it cut—and said, “Mom says—Mom says I should be nice to you.”

Nerys smiled. “You don't have to be. You can shout at me, if you like.” 

He looked over at his Dad, and chewed at his lip. “Will you play baseball with me, later?” 

“I will.” 

“The other kids says aliens aren't good at baseball.” 

She squeezed his shoulder. “They're wrong, believe me.” 

“OK. Can we have slushies?”

“What's a slushie?” Nerys said, watching as he darted ahead along the pier. A seagull flapped out of his way. 

Miles threw his arm around her shoulders. “You've still got a lot to learn.”


End file.
